by Nancy Mehl
“Yeah, we’re sure,” Casey said. “We check IDs very carefully.”
The door opened all the way. Valerie stepped out. “I . . . I didn’t used to be this timid,” she said. “In fact, I considered myself courageous. A reporter’s reporter, someone who would go after the truth no matter what.” She wiped away a tear that slid down her cheek. “Now I’m afraid all the time. I hate the person I’ve become. You must think I’m the biggest wimp in the world.”
“I can’t judge you,” Casey said. “I haven’t been through what you have. To be honest, if someone was threatening a person I loved, I don’t know how I’d respond.”
Valerie leaned against the wall, her face pale. “Fear is . . . self-defeating. I’ve betrayed myself, and I betrayed you.” She turned her face toward Casey. “I’m sorry. I really am.”
“You were protecting your sister,” Casey said softly. “Your fear wasn’t just for yourself.”
“I appreciate that, but maybe it’s time I took my life back. Quit being scared.” She grabbed Casey’s arm. “I’m glad we’re telling the FBI the truth. I should have come forward sooner. Maybe they would have found Susan already. I never should have trusted Mattan to let her go.”
“This is the right thing to do. The FBI is trained to deal with people like Al-Saud. If anyone can find your sister, it’s them.”
Valerie let go of Casey. “Well, let’s get this over with. It’s time Al-Saud paid for his crimes.”
For the first time, Casey saw a flash of who Valerie must have been at one time. It made her feel a kinship with the woman. She’d had to stand up to Jared. Maybe it took longer than it should have, but she’d finally taken her life back. She wanted to help Valerie do the same. “Okay, let’s go,” she said with a smile. “Let’s bring an end to this.”
E.J. poked his head in the doorway. “Are you ladies coming out or not?”
“Yeah, we’re on our way,” Casey said. “Valerie is ready to talk to the Feds.”
He nodded. “Okay, come on. I’ll introduce you.”
Casey and Valerie followed him down the hallway into the living room, where four men in dark suits stood waiting for them.
Casey was both relieved and concerned at the same time. She and Doug would be heading home soon. They’d gotten their witness safely to the location Batterson had sent them, but they still weren’t out of the woods yet. She wouldn’t relax completely until Valerie was sitting in front of the grand jury in D.C. Also, she wasn’t ready to say good-bye to E.J. Whether it was pride or unresolved anger, Casey was concerned that once he walked out the door, she might never see him again. And she wasn’t ready to let that happen. Not yet.
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
It was a little after midnight before Dr. Silver came back into the waiting room. Rachel had brought Tony a sandwich, claiming she’d made too much lunch for herself. Although he wasn’t convinced she was telling the truth, he’d accepted her offer. He’d scarfed down her tuna salad sandwich like a man starving to death. While he was eating, Mark stopped by with the burner phone. Tony felt much more secure with it, but until he could give Casey the number, she would still call the hospital.
After he ate, he’d grabbed more coffee from the nurses’ break room. It was not only good, but it also helped him to stay awake. He couldn’t afford to nod off. He stood up when the doctor entered and prayed she had good news. When she smiled, his heart raced. Was the chief better?
“He’s showing signs of consciousness. I even asked him a few questions, and he tried to answer me. Give him some time and I think you’ll be able to talk to him.”
Tony grabbed the doctor and hugged her, laughing with relief. He realized he was probably being inappropriate, but at that moment he didn’t care. When he released her, he was happy to see her smile. “So he’s going to be okay?” he asked, just making certain he’d heard her correctly.
“Barring any further complications, I believe he’ll make a complete recovery.”
“It’s really important I talk to him. We’ve got some deputies in a dangerous situation, and he has information we need.”
“I understand, but as I said, it will take a while. He may need an hour or so to be able to communicate clearly. And I’m being overly optimistic.”
Tony took a big breath and let it out slowly. He needed to talk to Batterson now. He was about to ask the doctor another question when Rachel rushed into the room, her brown eyes wide with disbelief.
“Dr. Silver, your head trauma patient is awake and asking to speak to one of his deputies.”
The doctor looked at Rachel with her mouth open. “Impossible.”
“You don’t know Richard Batterson,” Tony said.
“I guess not,” she said, shaking her head. “Let me examine him and then I’ll come back.”
“Then can I see him?”
“Only family is allowed in ICU.”
“But I’m his brother. Didn’t I tell you that?” Tony gave her the most innocent look he could manage and winked at Rachel.
“I guess I forgot,” she said. “In that case you can go in after I check him out. Wait here, please.” She gave him a quick smile before walking out. Rachel winked back and trailed after her.
Tony took that moment to lower his head and thank God for saving his boss. He didn’t care who saw or heard him. He was so thankful, what anyone else thought didn’t matter. He thought about calling someone—Tom, Mark, Karen, Marlon—but he decided to wait until he spoke with Batterson face-to-face. Afterward he could tell them he’d actually seen the chief and spoken to him. It might go a long way to calm the fears of the people who loved him.
He paced the floor for what seemed like hours but was only minutes. Finally the doctor came back into the room.
“He wants to talk to you, Tony. I have to warn you that he seems very agitated. I’m not sure what he’s upset about. Maybe you can figure it out.”
“Sure. I’d be glad to try.”
“He’s still groggy and will be for some time. Don’t expect too much, and don’t be surprised if he falls asleep while he’s talking. That will be normal for a while. His body and his brain have been through a lot.”
“Okay. Got it.”
“Come with me.”
He followed her to the door that led to the ICU. She pushed it open, and Tony saw several beds, some empty, some with people, separated only by curtains. The nurses’ station was situated across from the beds so they could keep an eye on their patients. The blinking and beeping of lights on the monitors in each room created a weird cacophony of sounds. It certainly wasn’t relaxing. Life and death hung on each beep, on each flashing light. The realization gave Tony chills.
“He’s right here,” Dr. Silver said, pointing to a bed on their right.
Tony had to fight to keep his expression from showing the shock he felt when he saw Batterson. His face was swollen, his eyes almost shut. Part of his head was wrapped with gauze. He looked ten years older than he actually was. It was the first time Tony had ever seen him looking frail. It shook him to the core. Batterson pointed at him and then waved him over.
“Hey, Chief,” Tony said quietly, feeling he shouldn’t speak too loudly. There were really sick people around them. Some of them could even be dying. “You know, if you wanted time off, there are other ways to go about it.”
Batterson mumbled something Tony couldn’t make out. He moved closer. “I can’t understand you. Can you say that again?”
“Casey . . . Doug.”
“They’re fine, Chief. I spoke to Casey earlier. They made it to the location you sent them to. Right now they’re waiting for the FBI.”
Batterson shook his head. “No . . . no.”
Tony was bewildered. What was the chief thinking? He must be confused because of the head injury and his surgery. He looked at Dr. Silver, who only shook her head.
Batterson reached out and grabbed Tony’s arm, pulling him closer. “FBI . . .” he said hoarsely. He pronounced each
letter as if it were a separate sentence, slowly and emphatically.
“Sure, Chief. Everything’s fine. Casey and Doug will hand Valerie Bennett over to them as soon as they show up.” Tony cleared his throat. He hated to push the chief right now, yet he felt he had no choice. “It would help if you could tell me when the Feds are supposed to arrive and who is coordinating the pickup. We’ve been reluctant to contact them. We didn’t want to compromise the operation.”
Tony was shocked to see the look in Batterson’s eyes. “No . . . no . . .” he said again.
Tony started to pull his arm out of Batterson’s grip. He’d end up with a bruise where the chief’s fingers dug into his skin.
“Tony, I . . . I . . .”
“Chief, please. Everything’s going to be okay. Don’t upset yourself. The FBI will get them safely to D.C. You don’t need to worry.”
“Tony . . . I never called them,” Batterson whispered, the effort obviously taking everything out of him. “No time. Watch . . . for the man . . . scar on left . . . cheek. Maaaa . . . ma. . . . ten . . . man . . .” With that, his grip on Tony’s arm relaxed, and Batterson passed out.
Tony couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Casey and Doug were waiting for help that wasn’t coming. They could be sitting ducks. They needed to get out, and get out now. The problem was, he couldn’t get in touch with Casey until she turned her phone on. She said she’d call back in an hour or two. There was no other way to warn her—unless he could get someone to their location. If only Batterson had stayed conscious long enough to tell him. He should have insisted Casey give him their location. He’d have to call Tom to see if he had a way to figure out where their people were.
“Is something wrong?” Dr. Silver asked.
“I don’t know. I hope not. We’ve got some deputies out there who think the cavalry is coming, but it’s not. And I don’t know how to let them know.”
“You can’t contact them?”
“I can try, except they’re keeping their phones off. Probably won’t answer. They’re supposed to call here at some point. I really need to speak with them now, though. Right now.”
Dr. Silver rested her hand on his arm. “I’m sure they’ll be okay. Don’t worry.”
He smiled at her. Easier said than done, but she had a point. They weren’t in immediate danger as far as he knew. When the FBI didn’t show up, they’d move the witness and contact him or Tom—or someone. Casey and Doug were well-trained deputies. They wouldn’t take any chances. He took a deep breath and tried to think. Then it occurred to him. Did the fake paramedic know Batterson planned to call the FBI? Was that why he tried to kill him? Because he didn’t want him to make that call? But why give him the phone in the first place? Tony rubbed his temples. Nothing made sense.
“We need to let him sleep,” Dr. Silver said after she checked Batterson over. She pointed to the exit of the ICU.
“Okay. When do you think he can talk to me again?”
“Not for a while. He needs rest if he’s going to recover. Are you going to wait around?”
“Have to. We need to have someone here constantly.”
“I’m aware of that, but does it have to be you . . . and only you? Can’t someone else keep watch over him?”
“Sure, but not until I get that call.”
Dr. Silver sighed. “Well, you’re dedicated. I’ll give you that.”
She led him back to the waiting room. Then he went to the nurses’ station and tried to call Casey, but she didn’t pick up. He immediately called Tom.
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
Agent Owens shook his head at the man sitting across from him. “We all assumed you were dead. I’m sorry, but I can’t understand your reasons for not coming forward before this.”
“Maybe it’s because one attempt to murder me was enough. I’m not a glutton for punishment.”
Owens silently took stock of his guest. Tall, shaggy blond hair, short beard, round glasses. Exactly what he’d expected. “So why come in now?”
“When I heard the senator was dead, I knew it was now or never.” Martin Avery took off his glasses and wiped them on his T-shirt. “Valerie is supposed to testify in D.C., right?”
Owens nodded.
“Even though Warren is gone?”
“Yes. We’re trying to find out if there really was collusion between the senator and a man we suspect has ties to terrorism. Unfortunately, we’ve never been able to prove it.”
“Oh, there was collusion all right, but one of two things is going to happen. Either Valerie will die before she reaches Washington, or her testimony won’t be what you’re hoping for.”
“I don’t understand.”
Martin put his glasses on and slid them back on his nose with his index finger.
The word nerd flashed through Owens’ mind. He frowned at his reaction. This wasn’t high school. Even if he thought a lot of these environmentalists were nut jobs, he needed to listen to Martin Avery. No one else had been as involved with Senator Warren and his connection to the oil pipeline. He’d looked over reports and talked to agents in Washington before Avery came in. He was the one who’d sent Valerie Bennett, a reporter for a newspaper in St. Louis, the information that led her to uncover a possible relationship between Senator Warren and Ali Al-Saud. If they could nail Al-Saud, a major terrorism cell would be exposed and destroyed.
“Al-Saud is smart,” Avery said. “Either he has people eliminated by someone else—associates who usually don’t live long after their assignments are completed—or he threatens people close to his targets. He’s resorted to kidnapping quite a few times. If I were you, I’d do a quick check on Valerie’s relatives. She was closest to her sister, Susan. Find out where Susan is. If she’s missing, Al-Saud has her.”
Owens made a note on the pad in front of him. “Okay. So what about Warren? He killed himself. And no, before you ask, it wasn’t staged. He pulled the trigger. We’re sure of that. Even left a note to his ex-wife.”
“I’d love to see that note. If you read between the lines, I bet you’ll find that the senator felt his wife was in danger. I’m certain he took his own life trying to keep her safe.”
Owens’ eyebrows arched. He’d seen a copy of the letter. Sure enough, the senator had made it clear it would be better for her if he was gone. That more than anything he wanted her to live a full, happy life. The way it was phrased, it was very possible Warren was trying to protect her.
“How did you get all this information about Warren and Al-Saud?”
“From the senator. He began to realize how far Al-Saud had pulled him in. When Dell Warren went to D.C., he had big plans. He wanted to make a difference. But the same thing happened to him that happens to many politicians who stay too long. Deals made under the table. Quid pro quo. And then someone like Al-Saud comes along. The senator found himself bought and paid for. One night, when we were out at a bar, he got drunk, and the whole story came out. He warned me that I couldn’t tell anyone. That Al-Saud would kill me. But of course I thought I was immortal. That’s when I started sharing some of this with Valerie. I was trying to get her to investigate—find the information I had. Before I could tell her everything, they came after me.”
“And how did you know they were after you?”
“Men standing across the street from my apartment. Following me. So I took off. Thought I was being smart. But they found me and took me to a warehouse in Pennsylvania. They have a kind of headquarters there.”
“And you got away?”
Avery nodded.
“So you’ve been hiding . . . where?”
Avery grinned. “Let’s just say that Wyoming has a lot of places in which to disappear. Beautiful state. I have no intention of telling you where I was. Just in case I need to go away again.”
“Hopefully we can keep that from happening. We have some questions for you, Mr. Avery. Questions from Washington—and St. Louis.”
Avery frowned. “Where is Valerie now?”
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Owens bit his lip as he considered his answer. Finally he decided to tell the truth. “We’re not sure.”
“What do you mean you’re not sure?”
Owens sighed. “There was an explosion at the Marshals Office in St. Louis. Assuming it might be connected to Bennett’s testimony in D.C., the Marshals took off with her, headed to Washington. After hearing from you, I got a call from the acting chief deputy and he filled me in. Right now communication is sketchy.” He didn’t tell Avery that the lives of the deputies and their witness were in danger.
“Al-Saud,” Avery said softly. He stared off into the distance for a moment. “My guess is, either they’re all dead or Valerie will show in Washington to repeat the story Al-Saud has ordered her to tell.” He shook his head. “The Marshals will never see their deputies again. If they know the truth, Al-Saud won’t let them live. Their deaths won’t look like an assassination. They will look like accidents. That’s his trademark. Nothing that can be connected back to him.”
“Still hard to believe you survived if Al-Saud is so smart.”
Avery snorted. “It wasn’t because I was brighter than Al-Saud, believe me. I simply turned down the wrong alley—or maybe it was the right one.”
“What are you talking about?”
“At the warehouse. There was a man who seemed . . . different. I don’t know. Anyway, he left a door open, and I escaped. I got the feeling he left it open on purpose, but I can’t be sure. I was followed by another guy—someone I knew wanted to kill me. He’s one of Al-Saud’s men. Ben Mattan, Al-Saud’s enforcer. When I saw him, I ran. I turned down an alley and figured he was right behind me. I thought I was dead. Tried to hide.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Somehow I lost him. Someone found me, though. A homeless man who noticed my feet sticking out from beneath the garbage I was crouching under. Just wanted my shoes. I think I scared him almost as much as he frightened me. He had no idea a person was attached to those shoes. I got out of that alley and went into hiding. Until now.”
Agent Owens considered everything Avery had told him. Could he be trusted? He wasn’t sure and yet several lives were on the line. He really had no choice. “I want to bring Washington and St. Louis in on this,” he said. “But we don’t have time for them to come here.”